I Do?
by iMe001
Summary: When Lucius Malfoy becomes Minister of Magic, it's no surprise that his first act is to require all muggle-borns to marry by the age of 17. And since everyone else has a significant other, that leaves Fred as Hermione's only option.
1. THe Muggleborn Marriage Law

Breakfast was always a loud one at the burrow, even right before school started. The air turned cold and crisp as September rolled into the year, bringing Hermione, Harry and Ron their first year as graduates from Hogwarts, even though Hermione turned seventeen fully next week

The twins would be yelling for some toast and jam down the table, Ron would be yawning constantly, Harry and Ginny would be laughing at some inside joke, and combine that with all the chatter from the guests and the Weasleys, and it's an almost obnoxious noise.

Tonks and Lupin sat together across from Hermione, next to Harry and Ginny. Hermione was in between the twins today, luckily, so that they wouldn't fight as much. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley each sat at one end of the table, smiling at each other and gesturing at everyone to eat if they weren't chewing. Bill would be between his father and Fleur, all three discussing Quidditch and politics. Surprisingly enough, Fleur knew a lot about the game, claiming she played when she was very little, but still followed the tournaments and matches. Her favorite team was Puddlemere United, Oliver Wood's team, besides her native French International Team.

Charlie was by Mrs. Weasley, talking to her about the kind of dragons he was working with, since no one else really cared too much to hear about it. Mrs. Weasley would nod and smile encouragingly, earning even brighter beams from Charlie as he rambled on like a little boy.

"Pass the syrup?"

"Hand me a napkin."

"Could you refill my orange juice?

"Will someone give me my coffee?"

"I need ze whipped cream! Eet is vital for my crepes!"

The noise was never-ending, even as Earl, Hedwig, Pig, and Charlie's owl, Feathernose came flying through the window; Earl flew to Mr. Weasley, dropped the Prophet in his lap, than followed suit, landing on his back in Mr. Weasley's pudding. Hedwig flew to Harry with a joint-letter from Dean and Seamus, wishing him a happy holiday. Pig flew into Ron's awaiting palm with a small package from Luna Lovegood, containing his usual 'random-Ron-gift'; a small Quidditch hoop with an enchanted Quaffle that was constantly trying to get through it if it weren't for a magical little red-headed keeper that kept blocking it. Hermione noticed the blush in Ron's cheeks as he beamed at his present, thanking the stars that he and Luna were so happy together. Feathernose brought Charlie a few letters from his co-workers from Romania wishing him a merry Christmas and a happy new year as well.

"Ahh, they finally caught Rodolphus!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, smiling at Hermione from down the table. Fred and George craned their necks to see, squashing Hermione deeper in between them. Mrs. Weasley took a quick glance at her husband, a spark in her eyes at the mention of Bellatrix Lestrange's husband, before returning to Charlie.

"Yes! The Harpies won over the Tornadoes! You owe me ten galleons Fred!" Bill called to Fred, smiling devilishly from behind the sports section of the Prophet. Hermione laughed as Fred groaned and pounded his fist on the table before throwing Bill a small bag, jingling with change.

"Oh my…" Said a voice softly. Even though the combined voices of everyone around them were loud enough to be heard for a good distance, Hermione heard that voice. She turned to Remus, who was examining the back of the front page of the newspaper, reading it than re-reading it. His eyes were clouded and his face nervous as his wife leaned over to read it too.

"In the name of Merlin…" She breathed, panic seeping into her voice. Slowly, conversation began to cease.

"Molly? You may want to look at this." Remus said nervously, for a moment glancing at Hermione. Mrs. Weasley looked up, confused at Tonk's and Lupin's lack of smile. She excused herself from Charlie, who looked slightly disappointed at being left alone before walking slowly to Remus, listening as he whispered in her ear, and taking the paper from him, frowning.

She too gasped, her hand lifting to her chest as she read the news. Her eyes were widened and Hermione could tell something was wrong when her hand began to shake.

"Everyone, I think you may want to hear this." She said shakily, looking at her husband for support. He shushed Bill and Percy. Hermione elbowed the twins to make them quiet. Soon, the room was completely silent, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to speak.

"It seems, that Lucius Malfoy…" She began, her breath stopping her. Hermione cringed at the name. "It seems he's…become Minister." Mrs. Weasley breathed out, placing her fingers to her mouth as if she had spoken a very ill-termed word. There was an uproar of commotion at the table, people attempting to snatch the paper from her hands.

"This is ridiculous!" Mr. Weasley shouted above the others, quieting them once more. "How'd he do it?" He asked, standing from his chair and walking over to his wife.

"It seems Fudge had stepped down due to old age, and without allowing another election, he inaugurated Malfoy in private, making the announcement just this morning. How…horrid." She said, re-reading the words to make sure they were real.

"Molly, what's this part about his first act as Minister?" Mr. Weasley asked, pointing his finger to a paragraph near the end. Tonks and Remus stiffened, as did Mrs. Weasley as she began to read aloud;

"Recently interviewed at eight a.m. this morning at a press conference, Mr. Malfoy promised to keep order and safety as top priorities in his new mandate. When asked what his first act as Minister would be, Mr. Malfoy replied; 'My first official act as Minister of Magic is to resolve a complication in birth. As of now, it is a requirement that all Muggle-born wizards and witches must marry a Pureblood witch or wizard by the age of seventeen to keep magical learning within the magical world. We do not want stragglers who may disregard the unofficial decree of our world's secrecy, which has become grave importance to us all."

Every single pair of eyes fell on Hermione as she dropped her spoon into her cereal, repeating the words in her head; _all Muggle-born wizards and witches must marry a Pureblood witch or wizard by the age of seventeen…_ _all Muggle-born wizards and witches must marry a Pureblood witch or wizard by the age of seventeen._ She turned seventeen in a week. One week. Next Sunday to be exact.

Oh God.

Mrs. Weasley had paled, leaning against her husband, muttering awful words about the Malfoys and cursing them for all eternity. Mr. Weasley's eyes had bulged and he had snatched the paper from his wife's shaking hands, scanning the words for any detection for falsehood. Than, looking at her and gulping, he handed it to Hermione.

She could feel everyone's eyes stare at her as she read the Prophet with trembling hands. No one spoke, no one coughed, and no one would have breathed had they not needed to. Hermione wanted to laugh at the law as if it were some sick-minded joke that she'd normally disprove of. But no, there it was, in little black letters underneath a moving headline, as if laughing at her unfortunate situation.

"I turn seventeen next week." She muttered, looking into Mrs. Weasley's sympathetic eyes. What was she going to do? She couldn't marry at sixteen!

"_Far too young! _Her Aunt Hannah would exclaim. _She needs a proper marriage in order to be accepted into society!_

"Don't fret, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said softly, trying much too hard to seem reassuring; Hermione could see the doubt in her eyes. "It's not like you will have to marry a stranger! We have plenty bachelors to call on! Your friends, from the Order, we'll be fine…we'll be fine." She continued to chant that under her breath, looking all around the table for a nod of encouragement. Turning to her husband's unsure face, she gestured with an incline of her head for him to back her up.

"Oh, of course! You could marry…uh…Harry!" He said, pointing to the messy-haired wizard, who looked up in shock. Ginny stood up.

"No offence Hermione, but I kind of don't want you marrying my boyfriend." She stated, smiling at her friend. However, Hermione noticed the edge to her voice and held up her hands, shaking her head. Harry exhaled loudly, smiling as Ginny sat back down and took his hand, a clear notion that he was hers. Mr. Weasley looked apologetically at his daughter before moving on.

"Um, what about Ron?" He asked, gesturing with both arms as if presenting an award. Ron glared at him, his mouth full of pancakes.

"No way. What about Luna?" He asked his dad shrilly. Than, looking at Hermione, he shrugged. "Sorry." He said. Hermione smiled sadly and nodded.

And thus, they went around the table, asking each man present.

"George?"

"I'm with Katie, remember? I can't just leave her!

"Right, sorry. Bill?"

"I'm married Dad."

"Yes he iz. I cannot believe you'd think he'd marry zomeone elz."

"Sorry Fleur. How about you Charlie?"

"I've got my eye on someone back in Romania. Sorry Herms."

"Remus? Oh wait, no, nevermind. Fred?"

"Huh?" Fred said, looking at his dad with wide eyes. Hermione cringed. Marry Fred? Mr. Weasley suddenly looked uncomfortable, along with everyone else in the room.

"Um well, do you have a girlfriend, fiancée, or love interst of any kind?" He asked his son, never making eye contact. Fred slowly shook his head, obviously confused. Mrs. Weasley stepped forward, placing her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Good, because you're about to marry Hermione."


	2. Of Licenses and Houses

Hermione sat on Ginny's bed, holding the small piece of paper with shaking hands, her eyes staring blankly ahead.

_All Muggle-born wizards and witches must marry a Pureblood witch or wizard by the age of seventeen…I'm going to marry my best friend's older brother because of a law._ Her mind screamed, still not disturbing the odd silence around the room besides small rummaging noises from Arnold the Pygmy Puff's cage. Hermione looked down at the paper in her hands, shaking harder than ever.

It was a marriage license. At least, that's what it looked like. Hermione wanted it so badly to be an enchanted piece of joke-paper, like the type from Fred's shop.

Fred. Oh dear God, how was he taking all this? _With a flourishing business, the admiration of any girl he meets, and he's stuck with me. Hermione Granger, plain and ordinary._ She thought, the frown on her face deepening. She'd never be able to make this up to him. How could she do this to him? He deserved better than what she offered. Than again, a sixteen-year-old girl couldn't offer much.

"Knock knock." She recognized his voice immediately, without looking towards him. First, she had to get these stupid little tear-trails off her cheeks. Wiping them furiously, she stood, took a deep breath, and turned.

Fred stood leaning against the doorway, his hands in his pockets. His scarlet hair was untidy as usual, his face solemn. Though when he saw her, he still gave her the saddest attempt at a smile that was capable.

"Hi." She said dumbly, wringing her hands in front of her. It felt as though she were on a stage in front of millions of people, staring at her, pin-pointing every flaw of her nature. And even though Fred wasn't an audience here to embarrass her, it was still nerve-racking the way he regarded her with serious eyes. She was so used to him smiling, joking and laughing, that the change in mood was like stepping into a cold lake, and Hermione hated cold water.

"Hi." He responded, taking a step into the room and kicking the door shut behind him. Hermione took a deep breath and looked at the floor, allowing an awkward silence to settle over the two of them.

"So…" Hermione began, but promptly shut her mouth. What in the world was she supposed to say? '_Hey honey! Can't wait for our wedding!_'_ Yeah, right._

"So…" She tried again, this time looking to the ceiling as if help would fall from the sky and land on her head. In two easy strides Fred was in front of her, his hands out of pockets as he ran them through his hair.

"Look Hermione. I-I know this is gonna feel really awkward at first. Same for me too! You're my little brother's girlfriend! This marriage law is stupid and a bad idea, but obviously, there's nothing we can do about it." He said as he began to pace irritably in front of her, stealing glances at her worried face every so often.

"Ron's not my boy-" She began, but he put up a hand to stop her.

"Doesn't matter." He said simply, stopping and staring at her dead-on. Hermione's stage theory came whirling back into her mind, and she felt light-headed for a moment. Sitting on the bed, she looked up at him, her eyes beginning to well up.

"Fred…I'm really, truly sorry that you have to do this." She said earnestly, allowing him to wrap an arm around her as he sat down next to her.

"Really Hermione, I think I'll get used to it. And you will too! Even if we didn't fancy each other, I'm sure we could just be married as friends. You're a great girl Hermione, and I enjoy spending time with you. I'm not saying everything will slip into place immediately. It's gonna take time, but we'll make it. We always do!" He said, shrugging his shoulders at her and allowing a true, genuine smile to brighten his face. Hermione processed his words, knowing full well they were just a cover-up over the situation. Still, she gave him a small, sideways smirk and nodded.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Just promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't try any of your pranks on me. At least test them out on someone other than your wife." She said, attempting a joke. She noticed him momentarily stiffen at the word 'wife', but smiled as he relaxed and laughed mischievously.

"Hmm…we'll see." He said, narrowing his eyes happily. Hermione shook her head, and together they filled out that dumb marriage license.

………

The next day, Mr. Weasley and Fred went to the Ministry of Magic to turn in the marriage license. Hermione could only smile at the look on Lucius Malfoy's face when he found out she had escaped his little trap.

While the two men were gone, Hermione lay on the couch in the living room, staring blankly at the wall. In a bittersweet way, she was somewhat happy her parents' memory charms had accidentally been irreversible. At least now she didn't need to tell them about her getting married at age sixteen; something she knows they'd have highly disapproved of. Still, it brought tears to her eyes when she thought back on the day she found them, wandering around like tourists, quite content with their daughter-less lives.

When she had tried to undo the spell, her mother had looked at her quizzically and asked if Hermione needed a doctor. Mr. Granger had gripped his wife protectively, as though his very own daughter might try to mug them or something. When still nothing happened after every memory charm she knew, Hermione began to cry, excusing herself from the couple before apparating to safety. It had been the worst day of her life. It was as if she had died and her parents had forgotten she had ever existed.

Sighing, Hermione stood from the couch. It wasn't wise to dwell in the past, especially when one's past was as twisted as hers; it would make the future seem farther away, and therefore eliminating anything she could look forward to. Her grandmother had told her that.

"Hello Weasleys!" A cheerful Mr. Weasley announced, opening the door to the kitchen and stepping in, smiling as usual. Mrs. Weasley appeared out of nowhere from near the oven and bustled over, kissing both men on the cheek.

"How'd it go?" She asked eagerly as Hermione walked over and sat at the table, nodding to Mr. Weasley and smiling at Fred.

"Brilliant! You should have seen the look on Malfoy's face!" Fred said, sitting down beside her, his face bright with excitement.

"He was actually there?" Hermione asked, smiling herself. Fred nodded.

"Oh yes. It's the Minister's job to oversee all marriage licenses. Don't know why though…" Mr. Weasley answered, looking from his wife to Hermione. Hermione smiled brighter and looked back at Fred. He looked really happy.

"Well come on! Hermione and I have been waiting for you to discuss wedding plans!" Mrs. Weasey said with excitement, pulling the two out of their chairs and hustling her husband into the living room, pulling a book from the shelf with a wave of her wand.

Fred looked at Hermione quizzically as they sat down on the couch, watching his mum open the notebook which was full of scribbled ideas.

"I thought we were just going to do it quick and easy." He said. Hermione nodded.

"I thought so too. I mean, that's kind of what I wanted. I apologize if this is offensive to anyone but I'd didn't really plan on having a big wedding ceremony. Really, I thought Fred and I would just sort of…dash through it, I suppose." She said, looking from Mrs. Weasley to Fred for backup.

"Dash through it? But Hermione, don't you want to plan your own wedding?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking as though her daughter had died. Hermione smiled sympathetically and shrugged.

"Honestly Mrs. Weasley, not really. I've never had much patience with weddings." She looked at Fred, who was smiling and looking rather relieved. "Is that okay with you?" She asked, earning a quick nod from him.

"Definitely. We could probably just zip down the road to that chapel and get married there in less than an hour. I kind of want it to be short too mum." He said, nodding.

"B-but…why?" Mrs. Weasley asked, ignoring her husband's hand on her own and looking at the two of them with a forlorn look. They both sighed.

"It would be less awkward that way, we think." Fred explained. "It's going to be uncomfortable enough, living in our own house and being married." He said, his nose crinkling slightly. Mrs. Weasley's face suddenly brightened like Fred had flipped a light switch on.

"That reminds me!" She said hurriedly, running off into the kitchen. Even Mr. Weasley suddenly looked excited.

"You two are going to love this!" He said, rubbing his hands together. Fred and Hermione looked at each other, obviously wondering what his parents were up to.

"Ta-da!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, holding a picture in front of her chest proudly. Hermione and Fred squinted forward to see it more clearly.

"Is it a-ahouse?" Fred guessed. Mrs. Weasley squealed excitedly, nodding her head in such a vigorous fashion that Hermione feared it would fall off.

"And it's yours!" She squealed again. Hermione immediately could feel the color drain from her face, her eyes widening. She didn't dare look at Fred's face, fearing his reaction. A house?! They had a house now?!

"Uh…mum, dad…you bought us a-a…house?" Fred gulped. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting that from his parents. "How'd you afford it?" He asked, a look of disbelief etched on his features.

"It was half a gift from the owner. He works in my department in the ministry and didn't have anything to do with it, so I thought you two should have your own house. The other half wasn't that expensive. Besides, you're both graduated now so you can move out and we don't have to worry about text-books for any of you, minus Ginny." Mr. Weasley explained, looking at them eagerly for a hint of their approval. Hermione was too shocked to grant it, but she did her best to stand and walk over to him.

"Thank-you." She said, turning him around and hugging him, throwing Fred a confused look over his dad's shoulder. Fred raised his eyebrows before copying her by hugging his mother, who had of course, begun to cry.


	3. Observing the Opposite

A week had passed since Fred and Hermione had 'dashed through' their wedding, moved into their house, and become an official married couple.

To say that Hermione was swept up in the whirl-wind of things was an understatement. She kept mistaking dates and twice she asked Fred when they were going to go to the church and say their somewhat dreaded vows.

The ceremony had been short and sweet, just like they wanted it to be. There were no bridesmaids (much to Ginny's disappointment) and no flower girls. The two of them nearly ran up the aisle, said 'I do', exchanged rings, and even pecked briefly on the lips before the two-second applause of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ginny, Remus, Tonks, Bill, Charlie, Percy and Ron. Charlie had left the day before to go back to Romania on business.

So now, Hermione was a married woman. A real-life wife, as her mom would say. She lay on her new couch lazily, her hand extended out in front of her as her eyes scrutinized the ring. Not to say it wasn't pretty; it was bloody gorgeous for that matter. A small little ruby surrounded by even smaller diamonds. Fred had said that it had been his grandmother's, which had melted Hermione's heart. She narrowed her eyes at it still, completely aware of how oddly heavy it felt on her ring finger, like it didn't belong there.

"Honey, I'm home!" Fred announced in a sing-song voice, nearly bouncing through the door. Hermione rolled her eyes, stowing her hand away from her face up near her hair.

"Honey, you never left!" She responded in the same tone, cocking an eyebrow at him. Fred shook his head and sat on the floor in front of her.

"Yes I did! I went outside to get the Prophet. Errol crashed in the bushes so I had to do some digging see, but I got it!" With that he triumphantly held up a partially ripped paper in his hand, holding it like a trophy. Hermione rolled her eyes again and snatched it up.

"What'd you do to it? I doubt any newspaper could offend you so much that you felt the need to nearly destroy it." She said, examining the paper like a patient in a doctor's office. Fred shook his head.

"Errol's fault, not mine." He said, standing up. Hermione held up her hand, allowing him to take it in his own and hoisting her up from her sitting position. She walked into the kitchen, unwrapping the Prophet.

"Sports." She called briefly before tossing that section over her shoulder. Fred caught it with ease a moment before she heard him let out a whistle of relief.

"Yes! The Harpies won again! George owes me fifteen galleons now!" Fred said, pumping his fist in the air. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him before turning to the front page and placing it on the counter, bending over to read.

She was at the second headline when she stopped reading, her breath catching in her throat. Not again!

"You've got to be kidding me!" She exclaimed, picking the paper up by two quivering hands and holding it close to her face so that she could be sure the words were real. Fred, who had pulled out a bag of potato chips, turned towards her with a quizzical look.

"What?" He asked, walking over and reading over her shoulder.

"All new marriages between a muggle-born and a pure-blood are to report to the Ministry of Magic by October 14th for an examination of an authentic partnership." She read aloud, her voice growing angrier and angrier with ever syllable that passed her lips. She would have snarled, but it was quite unlike her to do so.

"What?" Fred asked incredulously, bending over her shoulder since he was about a little over a foot taller than her. Hermione glared at the newspaper in her hands, grounding out mutters about the Ministry.

"How ridiculous can they get?" She demanded, sitting on one of the barstools at the counter, placing her head in her hands. Fred was reading, than re-reading, than reading again, never stopping to answer. It was true that the Ministry was already a bit over-board on silly laws that no one really needed to mind, but when any type of government dares to examine someone's marriage, that was crossing the line.

"I don't know…we'll have to go in tomorrow." Fred said dully, keeping his eyes on the Prophet as he spoke to her. Hermione glanced at him, a frown deepening on her face.

"Tomorrow?" She asked. "It said we didn't have to go in until October fourteenth though." This wasn't really a statement or a question. More than anything it a slight protest or objection. Hermione couldn't tell the difference between them today. Fred shook his head, taking a bite out of an unusually large chip.

"Yeah, but we'll have to get this over with sooner, that way, once we get our marriage certified," He cringed slightly at the mention of their status. "They won't have a reason to make up another dumb law just to try and stump everyone." He said, finally taking his eyes from the paper and laying them on her annoyed features. Fred did his best to give her a reassuring smile.

"What kind of questions would they ask?" Hermione said, standing up and re-folding the paper. Fred stepped around her and grabbed a napkin to wipe the grease of his fingers, shrugging as he did so.

"Probably lame ones. Like, 'what's your wife's favorite color?' Or something-"

"Gold." Hermione answered. Fred stopped talking and looked at her strangely, still wringing his hands with the napkin.

"What?" He asked, looking at her oddly. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"My favorite color. It's gold." She said, the slightest hint of confusion in her voice. Than again nowadays, she was always confused. Fred continued to look at her like she had turned purple for a few more moments, than he cracked an uneasy smile, nodding.

"Oh…cool. Yeah, mine's blue." He announced, sitting in her empty barstool, folding his arms and laying his head down on them. Hermione walked over behind him and scratched his back. She heard him sigh with contentment.

"I suppose we'll have to know all of each other's favorites…what the first thing we do in the morning is…that kind of stuff." She said absent-mindedly, still running her hands down and up his back. Fred had his eyes closed, just enjoying the feeling.

"Yeah, 'guess so." He mumbled back, ignoring her little laugh. "Ask away." He muttered into his arms. Hermione stopped scratching a moment.

"What?" She asked him, as if she hadn't been paying attention. Fred chuckled, but it was muffled by his arms, so he raised his head.

"Ask away. If we need to know each other inside and out, we might as well start now. Here, I'll go first. What's your favorite food?" He asked, pulling out the stool next to him so she could sit down.

"Probably spinach." She said, smiling. Fred wrinkled his nose and made a vomiting gesture.

"Gross." He muttered. Hermione swat him on the arm, ignoring his comment.

"What's yours?" She asked. Fred thought for few moments.

"Coffee-cake." And thus it went on, asking and answering. Hermione stood and got them a tub of ice-cream to much on while they talked on, ignoring the little hands of the clock as it flew past numbers.

"Book."

"Too many to name. Animal."

"Colin Creevy."

"Fred, that's not what I meant."

"I know, but you gotta admit, that kid looks like a hedgehog." Hermione laughed at that. Fred smiled and poked his spoon back into the tub of chocolate-chunk; his favorite. Hermione sighed and leaned back on the chair, licking her spoon and thinking.

"What's up?" Fred asked, turning his neck to peer at her. She stopped smiling and allowed her face to become guarded and worried.

"It's just-what if we slip up. Do you realize how convincing we'll have to be? They'll be scrutinizing every aspect of this relationship. But that's the problem! We don't _have_ a relationship!" She cried, running her fingers through her hair and standing from her chair and pacing around the room.

Fred watched with a mixture of concern and amusement. He smirked, holding the tub of ice-cream to his chest as his bushy-haired friend gave up walking, and lay flat on the floor, face down, whimpering. Fred held back a chuckle, knowing he'd have hell to pay if she caught him laughing at her. Still, he allowed himself a tiny chuckle before placing the ice-cream back on the counter.

Hermione was still mumbling crossly when he laid down on his stomach, his face a few inches from hers.

"Hermione?" He asked, folding his arms under his chin. Hermione breathed heavily and looked up.

For some reason, Fred's blue eyes seemed…bluer. Hermione had never really taken the time to observe his eyes, or his face for that matter. Normally, all she would say about his outer-appearance was that he had blue eyes, red hair, and some freckles. Now, being this close to him in proximity, she could easily say that his hair was orange-like, with a sprinkle of auburn. His eyes were more of a forget-me-not periwinkle than obvious blue, and to her surprise, he only had a dash of freckles here and there.

"Hmm…" She murmured, furrowing her brow as she inspected him. She didn't notice the odd look he gave her as she tilted her head, studying him.

"What?" He asked, suddenly self-conscience. "Is there something in my teeth?" He asked, and began furiously licking them over in his mouth. Hermione brought her normal gaze back, a small smile on her face.

"No, it's just…well you and George really do look different." She concluded, looking at him in a more dream fashion than usual. Fred raised an eyebrow at her.

"How so?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbows, cradling his head in his palms.

"Well, your hair is a bit shorter and a little less tidy than his. Plus, it has more of a red shade instead of orange. And your eyes…they're forget-me-not blue. His are darker, almost sapphire colored. And I've noticed that you have fewer freckles than he does on your back and shoulders. Before you accuse me of stalking you in the shower though, it was from when we all went swimming at lake near the Burrow last summer." She finished, smiling fully at him now. Fred looked slightly bewildered at her analysis, but shrugged it off with a quizzical look.

"You are way too observant."


	4. How to Annoy Interrogators

Hermione finished brushing her teeth quicker than usual with anxiety hidden in every stroke. Tomorrow was the big examination, and while she and Fred had spent the entire last five hours memorizing each other's habits, favorites, and usual routines, one couldn't help but feel antsy at the thought of proving their marriage was legitimate when really, it wasn't even real. Fred stood in the bedroom behind her, shirtless as usual with a pair of blue pajama pants on, folding his shirt and placing it in the drawer.

For a persistent trouble-maker, Fred was quite the clean-freak. He liked all his shirts organized and placed into the correct drawers, all which were labeled. Not even Hermione could top that one. She had pants and shirts mixed in together. Folded, yes, but still not as tidy as Fred. She spit into the sink, wiped her mouth with a tissue and entered the bedroom.

Hermione was so thankful she didn't have to be uncomfortable in her own bedroom. It was weird enough living with Fred, but sleeping with him? She refused to go that far.

So, she happily obliged when Mrs. Weasley offered to buy them both two beds, which they had immediately put on opposite sides of the room. The bathroom was conveniently located on the imaginary dividing line in the room; right down the middle. That way, at least they didn't have to accidentally wake up on top of each other or anything like that.

Fred smiled wearily at her when she came out of the bathroom, turning the lights off and shutting the door behind her. She smiled back and stretched her arms.

"Big day tomorrow." Fred sighed, crossing over to his own bed and beginning to pull back the blankets. Hermione mirrored his actions. Trying to keep the atmosphere light, she chuckled.

"Oh please Fred, you say it as if we're getting married." She joked, and a moment later realized how unfunny it was. They already were married.

"Nevermind." She mumbled, after standing there, closing her eyes and mentally slapping her forehead. Fred shook off the serious look on his face and rolled his eyes at her, crawling into his bed.

"Don't worry about tomorrow. Just remember; my favorite food is coffe-cake. Got it?" He asked, eyeing her from across the room. Hermione slid gracefully under the covers and looked at him strangely.

"Why would I need to remember that?" She asked, hesitantly reaching for the switch on her lamp. Fred smirked and rolled onto his back, smiling at the ceiling.

"I'm hoping they'll offer us some after the hearing." He said happily. Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. A moment later, the room went dark and Fred began to snore rather loudly.

……….

The chairs at the Ministry were incredibly uncomfortable, and the hearing rooms were just as small. Hermione fidgeted; annoyed with the wooden piece of stupid furniture beneath her that was probably bruising her bare legs. She decided it was a bad day to be wearing a skirt. She took a deep breath, looking around at the cramped walls that secluded her from the rest of the world. Maybe it had something to do with intimidating the victim who sat in this awful chair.

She and Fred had been separated at the door. He had given her a squeeze on the shoulder before he was escorted away by a rather fat and frumpy looking wizard. Hermione had turned to her interrogator, a small smile on her face, only to be greeted by a cold and suspicious glare.

And now, here she was. Her interrogator, who's name was Helga Billkin-Jonas (a hell of a name in Hermione's opinion) sat at the desk, shuffling through Hermione and Fred's files. Finally, she turned to her client, still unsmiling.

"How long have you and your husband been married?" She asked in an emotionless tone. Hermione gulped quietly.

"Um, I think about a week and a half? Or maybe just a week." She said nervously, glancing at Helga for any sort of reassurance. None given.

"How many people were at the wedding?" She asked again, scribbling down a quick note on her clipboard.

"About a dozen. It was mostly his family." She answered. Helga raised her eyebrows.

"Your parents didn't come?" She asked, and Hermione couldn't help but notice the hint of cruel satisfaction at the thought of a muggle-born orphan. Hermione glared at her.

"No, they did not. They were killed a couple of years ago." She answered acidly. Helga nodded and scribbled again.

"Have you had any previous engagement of any sort of relationship with his family?" She asked, her eyes glued to her paper. Hermione grimaced briefly.

"I dated his younger brother for a few months in my seventh year at Hogwarts." She said angrily. She didn't like thinking about that relationship. Apparently, Helga did.

"Oh? What happened to cut that off?" She pried, making Hermione squirm.

"Well, there's another girl who caught his attention. After that, everything was just empty." She replied, choosing her words carefully. In truth, Ron had technically cheated on her with Luna, but there were no hard feelings between the girls. Hermione had confessed to Luna that she had lost that sort of feeling for Ron awhile ago, and in no way was upset with the Ravenclaw. On the other hand, Ron had been a different story…

"Hm. How much do you know about your husband?" Helga inquired. Hermione sighed. When was this ordeal going to be over?

"Very well." She replied confidently. Helga raised her eyebrows at Hermione's boldness, obviously hoping to catch her off-guard. It never happened.

"What's his favorite color?"

"Blue. But he likes Periwinkle now a bit more."

"Why the sudden change?" Helga asked. Hermione blushed slightly.

"I told him it was the color of his eyes." She answered happily, smiling. Helga made some unintelligible noise in the back of her throat, and Hermione's brow furrowed. _Of course! I just made it seem like Fred and I were actually in love by that whole eye-color thing! So that's the trick, make everything as mushy and detailed as possible._ She smiled in spite of herself, quite proud with her unknown cleverness. Helga stopped scribbling.

"What's he like in the mornings? Afternoons, nights?" She asked, a prim look settled in her eyes. Hermione decided she really despised this woman. She reminded her horribly well of Umbridge.

"Um, in the mornings…" With a small panic, Hermione realized that she and Fred hadn't practiced questions like these. They had focused on each other's personalities, their likes and dislikes, not moods or attitudes. Helga smiled triumphantly at Hermione's lack for words to describe Fred. _Think Hermione, think! You know Fred well enough to answer this!_

"Well, in the morning, he's kind of…lazy. But than again, everyone is. With him though, he's really almost vulnerable in the morning. Like, you could tease him about something, and he'd take immediate offence. He'd very disoriented, and kind of a push-over. But he's still pleasant to be around, besides his morning breath. But actually, that's not so bad either-"

"How about afternoons?" Helga ground out, quite annoyed with Hermione for being able to answer the question successfully. Hermione gave her a harsh look for interrupting her.

"In the afternoons, he'd full-on Fred. Always smiling, always making jokes. He's very alive in the afternoons, like he's turned twelve again. It's very easy to be around him when he's like this, because he becomes like your best friend in two seconds. I can see now why girls are so taken with him." She said, smiling, the image of Angelina and Katie Bell twirling into her brain. How jealous would they be now?

"And nights?" Helga asked, obviously starting to tire.

"Nights? Well his behavior doesn't much change from the Afternoons. He still is cheery and all, but I guess it mellows down a bit." She said, thinking about how to make that more detailed. Helga didn't seem to notice. She rubbed her face tiredly, as if Hermione was such a dreadful bore.

"And what about in bed?" She asked sleepily. Hermione jerked her attention back to her inquirer.

"Excuse me?" She aske,d quite taken aback. Helga raised her head eagerly.

"During intercourse. Is it satisfying for both parties?" She asked. Hermione knew this was a serious question, and yet Helga was nearly overflowing with giddiness that she had finally caught Hermione off guard.

"Well…um-" Hermione spluttered.

……..

Meanwhile, Fred was leaning as far back in his chair as he could, a mixture of confusion and disgust on his face as he regarded his interrogator.

"Come again?" He asked, his voice extremely strained. After answering every one of Hermione's likes and dislikes, he was too exhausted to even open his mouth for this question, much less think about it.

"I said, are you two sexually active?" The wizard asked, looking grumpier and frumpier than ever. Fred looked bewildered at the man, feeling suddenly very violated.

"Well…no." He choked out, not knowing fully how to explain his position without giving them away. How do you answer a question like that?

……….

"That. Was. Hell." Hermione grunted as Fred lead her out of the Interrogation Office and into the vast entry-way, full of fireplaces and moving telephone booths. Fred took a deep breath and nodded. He decided not to tell Hermione about the 'intercourse' question, fearing the embarrassment that would surely come from the looks she would throw him. Instead, he glanced behind his shoulder, eyeing the two interrogators. They had previously been comparing notes as he and Hermione left the building, but now their eyes followed them, the suspicion overflowing their cold eyes. Fred was getting tired of them doubting him and Hermione. Just to make them shut up, he did the only thing he knew would make their mouths drop.

Grabbing Hermione by the shoulders, be pulled her around to turn and face him. She looked momentarily shocked by his actions, but he doubted it could rival the look she must have given him next; he didn't see it because his eyes were already closed as his lips descended down upon hers in a sweeping motion, capturing them quickly and softly, parting them and deepening the kiss.

Hermione's eyes were wide open as Fred kissed her. For the first few moments, she stood like a manikin in shop window, still and unmoving, when her body reacted. She closed her eyes and raised her arms, wrapping them around his neck and pulling his head closer to hers. He caught her drift and snaked his arms around her petite waist, grinning into her lips, soft and cherry-tasting.

Hermione knew it wasn't real. She had figured that out the moment before Fred had kissed her; when she saw the two interrogators behind them, eyeing them like escaped criminals. Still, she tried her best to ignore the goose-bumps that sprinkled over her flesh, allowing the smallest of shivers run down her spine quickly. It did not go unnoticed by Fred, who finally released her, took her hand, and led her away from the building, smiling like a mad-man.


	5. The Beating of a Burglar

**AN: Gahhh! Before you throw vegetables and chairs at me, please hear me out on why this chapter took so long!!!**

**Phew, okay, so I got addicted to youtube over the last week and spent a lot of time on there looking for some inspiration for this lovely little story, however it was on Tuesday that I realized what a horrible author I am to you guys! Anyway, consider this somewhat shorter chapter my apology, and expect to see chapter 6 out in a much shorter wait. Again, I am so so so so so so sorry!!!!!!!!! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Oh please.**

Hermione was sitting on the couch, once again admiring her ring. In truth, she was still waiting for it to crack in half so that she'd be released from this torturously awkward union, but no matter how much she glowered at it, not even the slightest quiver of movement occurred.

Exhaling in frustration, she snapped her hand away form her eyes, annoyed at the small band around her finger. This was becoming too much of a habit for Hermione while Fred was down at the shop, probably smiling and laughing with George, actually having fun.

Sighing, she stood and walked up the stairs for a nap, growing far too weary to keep glancing at the small reminder on her finger, taunting and laughing at her.

………

Fred returned from work, if you could call pranking customers nonstop with George work, at about six, smiley and happy. He threw his jacket carelessly on the blue armchair and stretched his arms over his head, yawning contently. He looked around the room, thinking something was missing.

Hermione! He wheeled around towards the sofa, thinking that maybe she had fallen asleep there and he had accidentally passed her by. Normally, when he got home, Hermione would be sitting right there on the couch, her hand awkwardly thrown behind her head, as if she had snapped it back there quickly and had not moved it to a more comfortable position. He furrowed his brow as he turned around the living room, looking for her.

"Hermione?" He called down the hallway. When there came no answer, he turned away, but a small, barely audible snore pulled his attention to the stairs.

Although he didn't know why, there was probably some sort of criminal or homeless person asleep in his house. Fred, being the boyish guy he was, immediately wanted to floo over to his mom's house. However, Hermione pleasant face flashed in his mind, and he knew he couldn't leave her there. Even though she was fierce, she was no match for a burglar.

Crouching down, he picked up an umbrella near the doorway. At first, he thought Hagrid might be here, because the umbrella was pink and kind of big. _Oh yeah, Hermione bought this last week. Whoops. _So much for that idea.

There came another small snore, and Fred's panic level increased. What if this guy had already gotten Hermione? What if he had killed her? What if he had eaten that pie his mom made? Ugh, the possibilities of what tragic deeds this criminal had committed were endless and horrifying, making Fred's feet move slightly quicker as he stepped lightly down the hallway that lead to the stairs. He held the umbrella out in front of him, ready to attack. It hadn't even crossed his mind to pull out his wand. Besides, he thought he may have left it in the bathroom this morning. Oh well, Hermione would know where it was.

That thought brought him back to the present, where he was just about to jump out from the shadows and mercilessly beat the quaffles out of this guy. Mentally, he counted to three, ready to spring. _One…Two…oh man I need to pee! Not now! Ugh, one…two…THREE!_

"Ha-ha!" He bellowed as he sprung forth, brandishing the umbrella like a sword, swinging and whacking like there was no tomorrow.

"This is for Hermione!" He yelled triumphantly, as he swung down and collided the umbrella with the body. "This is for me!" He shouted, again making bruising contact. "And this is for my mom's pie!" He yelled once more, raising the umbrella higher than ever, ready to deliver the final blow that would knock this guy out cold.

"FRED!"

"Hermione?" Fred lowered his umbrella gently, his face perking up at the sound of her voice. He whirled around, but didn't see her, so he turned towards the stairs and looked up. Still no Hermione. "Where are you?" He asked.

"Down here." She croaked, and as the horror of what he had done sunk in, slowly, Fred looked down at his feet, where the "burglar" had been resting.

Hermione lay curled up in a small ball-like shape, clutching her left arm to her chest and her right arm holding her nose, which was bleeding profusely. Fred's eyes widened and he could literally feel the color rush from his face. He just beat his wife…would she considered this an abusive marriage than?

Stooping down quickly, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her like a small girl, holding her close and apologizing every step of up the stairs.

"Hermione! I'm so sorry! I thought-well I mean you obviously are not a burglar, but still! I'm so sorry! Why didn't you say something? Well, I guess you couldn't, but I am so stupid! I'm so sorry, Hermione! I would never do that on purpose! Oh geez I'm an idiot! He rambled, kissing her forehead and cheek between syllables.

"Yes, you are an idiot." She replied harshly, holding her hand to her head and glaring at him. He looked back sympathetically. Her gaze softened. "But that's okay." She said, her voice dipping into a softer, sweeter tone. His favorite tone. He smiled again and kissed her forehead, which was beginning to sport a nasty-looking bruise.

He carried her with ease into the bedroom before laying her on his bed, which was enchanted to be bit more comfortable than hers, which was very stiff. Hermione sunk into the mushy comforter, a look of pure contentment crossing her eyes. Fred chuckled and pulled the quilt off her bed and laid it over her, kissing her cheek.

"Sleep well, Little Burglar." He said softly, turning to walk away.

"Wait." Hermione croaked. Fred turned back, surprised. Hermione rotated over on his twin bed and motioned for him to lie with her. Fred laughed and held up his hands, backing away.

"Nah, I've got your bed to rest in if I need to. And the couch!" He said, smiling and still walking away. Hermione pouted.

"But my bed's all stiff, and you of all people will fall off the couch." She persisted, patted the empty space next to her. Fred looked down and shuffled his feet. Darn. She was right.

Sighing with a mixture of exhaustion and happiness, he clambered into the bed next to her, pulling the quilt over him too. She immediately drew herself towards him; lying extremely close…they were almost _cuddling_!

However, the oddest part of all was this. Fred knew, deep down, had it not been for the awkward position he was laying in with Hermione so close, he would definitely be enjoying being so close to her; feeling her soft skin against his rough arms, smelling her cranberry shampoo, seeing her small smile, the way she still looked adorable even though her nose was still a bit bloody…it was the sweetest, most innocent, and most terrifying thing he'd ever experienced.


	6. Awkward Awakening

Fred was, to say the least, terrified with his current sleeping arrangement. After last night's accident (Hermione and the burglar, oh dear.) Fred had agreed to just lay with her until she finally fell asleep. Her nose was still bleeding a little when he first heard her slight snore, but he brushed it away with a napkin and a smile. Than, the most unplanned and ridiculous thing had occurred; he had fallen asleep right alongside her.

And then of course, he woke up quite content this morning with a fuzzy idea of baking apology brownies for Hermione. However, as he stretched and yawned happily, he looked over to "Hermione's" side of the room. What he found himself staring at was _his_ desk, _his_ carpet, and _his_ bed. Then, with growing terror, he slowly looked down to the mass that lay happily on his chest.

First, all he saw was a sweet mane of bushy, curvy hair, which ticked his stomach through his tee-shirt when Hermione shifted her head and sighed clearly oblivious with her position. Fred's eyes widened as he looked down at her, panic rising to his earlobes. He tried to move out from underneath her, but she clamped her arms down on him, thus ceasing all activity on his end. Fred took a deep breath and looked at her.

Her chest was rising and falling evenly with every breath she took, the smallest of happy smiles placed delicately on her lips. He couldn't help but marble at how contagious her mood was; in a matter of moments, he too shifted his back up against his pillow, one arm tracing her fingers, the other resting in her hair as it spun around a few loose strands. They felt like silk as they ran between his fingertips, and he smiled.

And then of course, as cliché moments go, her eyes popped open and she inclined her head towards him, a confused and dazed look on her rosy cheeks.

"Fred…?" She asked quizzically, glancing at their conjoined hands. Fed felt the heat of a volcano rapidly shove it's way up to his forehead as he stuttered, trying his best to come up with a legitimate or charming excuse.

"Um…there was a…a bug in your hair…and I thought it was going to…uh…bite…your hand." He said, clearing his throat at the end, looking away from her questioning eyes. _Oh yeah, real smooth Fred._

"Okay than." Hermione said sarcastically, pushing herself off of him and leaving without another word into the bathroom. Fred let out a staggered breath, running his hands up and down his face, trying to rub away the totally un-manly blush that had marked its territory on his cheeks.

………

Hermione slammed the bathroom door shut immediately, the look of sarcasm draining from her face. It was replaced by a look of sheer stupidity and horror. What the hell had she just done? She woke up on top of Fred Weasley.

Whimpering slightly, she hid her face in her hands and sank down the door on her back until she was sitting on the floor. She drew her knees up to her chest and began to think about the situation.

_Option A: We forget it never happened and go back to our normal lives._

_Option B: I act disgusted and insist that I spend the night at the Burrow_

_Option C: I demand that we get a divorce. Immediately._

_Option D: Admit that I enjoyed it._

Option A was highly unlikely, so that was a no. Option B may work, but Fred's feeling would definitely be hurt. Option C made no sense because she would just have to re-marry within the week since the marriage law. Ugh, it seemed hopeless.

And of course, Option D floated in her mind like one of those really annoying flies in the summer that zoom and hover by your ear, buzzing in the night until you finally swat it away, only so it can come back five minutes later.

Hermione groaned. The truth was, she had enjoyed…a little. The way Fred fit against her so perfectly was both pleasant and scary at the same time. Closing her eyes, she remembered the way his arms had wrapped around her and held her close to his chest. She could still smell the musky cologne that radiated off him, a mixture of ginger-spice and a spring day after a storm. Does he always smell like that in the morning? If so, Hermione loved it.

She banged her head on the doorway as if to beat the thoughts out of her brain. Fred knocked on the other side.

"Hey, are you okay in there? You keep groaning. Stomach ache?" He asked sympathetically, his voice muffled by the door in between them. At that moment, Hermione wished she could kiss the guy who invented doors.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She responded quickly and as normally as possible, shuddering slightly from the tone of his voice. It was so uncomfortable sounding like it took all his energy just to shove the words out of his throat. Hermione cringed and stood, balancing herself on her feet. This was going to be a long day.

………

"I dunno, and then we just woke up in each other's arms! I don't know what to do Ginny!" Hermione cried exasperatingly, throwing her head back down on the bar with a bang. Ginny looked slightly surprised at Hermione's outburst, but waved it off with a wave of her hand for another firewhiskey, which was brought to her instantly.

"Well, what else had been making everything so awkward?" Ginny asked, taking a sip of her drink and peering at Hermione. Hermione raised her head slightly and groaned.

"Well, when we went into that interrogation thing, which was dreadful by the way, my interrogator asked the most embarrassing question! She asked if Fred and I satisfy each other in bed!" Hermione cried again. Ginny promptly spit out her firewhiskey, conveniently on the bartender who was passing them by. She threw him a sympathetic glance at turned back to her friend, who had hidden her face again.

"Well?" She demanded. Hermione looked up, confused now. Ginny's eyes widened. "Do _you_?" Hermione's mouth popped open.

"Ginevra Weasley! We most certainly do NOT!" She blurted, a little too loudly. All eyes around the bar were on them, quizzical glances peering at them. Hermione threw some money at the bartender and whisked Ginny out of the bar before they could embarrass themselves anymore.

………

"I can't even look at her George! Every time I see her, my knees get all wobbly and stuff. Did you spike my syrup this morning?" Fred asked, lowering his hands from the air. George sat in front of his twin on a stool, shaking his head empathetically. Fred groaned and rubbed his face with frustration, his ears redder then ever.

"Look mate, you've known it for awhile, but I'm just gonna throw it out there for consideration; have you ever thought that maybe you actually…might…fancy her?" George asked, raising his eyebrows in question. Fred stopped pacing and turned to his twin, a look of pure shock on his open mouthed face.

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" He shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of the store. George rolled his eyes.

"C'mon Fred, knees go weak, uncomfortable blushing, it's so obvious that you might like her. It's not a big deal." George commented casually, standing from the stool and crossing the room to a large cardboard box. Fred ignored him and moaned, sitting lamely on the floor, running his fingers through his hair.

_There's no way. _He thought_. Absolutely no way I could fancy Hermione. Just because she's my wife doesn't mean anything._ With a frown, he realized how odd-sounding that last thought had been. His attention was called back to George when he sat down next to him with a small vial in his hands.

"Well, here's your savior." George said holding the bottle out for Fred. Inside was a teal-ish color with small sparkles. Fred raised an eyebrow.

"Love Test?" He asked. The Love Test was supposed to bring out another's feelings for you, no matter how deep they were. However, if the victim didn't have any feelings whatsoever, you'd be sporting a rather nasty pimple on your forehead as a side effect. George smiled and nodded.

"Yeah. I'm saying, give Hermione the love potion. If it doesn't work, you can stay with me until the pimple goes away. However, if it does work…well, you'll know what to do." And with a quick, sly smile, he dropped the vial into Fred's pocket.


	7. A Change in Routine

Hermione stared down at her orange juice, absorbed in the pulpy liquid and her thoughts. Fred hadn't been home all day since he began taking double shifts. This started a week ago, when they had woken up in each other's arms…and Fred had been holding her hand…

_Her chest was rising and falling evenly with every breath she took, the smallest of happy smiles placed delicately on her lips. He couldn't help but marble at how contagious her mood was; in a matter of moments, he too shifted his back up against his pillow, one arm tracing her fingers, the other resting in her hair as it spun around a few loose strands. They felt like silk as they ran between his fingertips, and he smiled._

Oh dear God, why did this have to happen? She wasn't actually supposed to like the guy! She'd only married him because of a law anyways. It's not like she wanted the arrangement, no matter how she felt about it now. Still, Hermione refused to go anywhere near the "L" word. _I am not in love with Fred Weasley. I am not in love with Fred Weasley._ She would think this statement to herself with full-on determination, her mind set on making it true…or at least believable. Sighing, Hermione finally picked up her orange juice, which should have been easy. However, she had, seemingly, poured all her thoughts into the glass, making it seem one hundred pounds heavier. Quietly, she slowly tipped it into the sink, allowing the juice to pour out and down the drain.

Fred opened the door just as Hermione closed the door to the bathroom. He heard it, muffled by the rest of the hallways and stairs between them. It seemed like an endless stretch of emptiness stood in the house. He and she barely ever spoke, except the occasional hello or good luck at work. Sighing as well, he fell back onto the sofa and glanced at the clock. It was seven p.m., the usual time he got home from the late shifts he had been taking. Hermione would be upstairs, showering. After that, she'd settle in her bed (strictly on the farthest side of the room) and read until he came up from his Quidditch matches that were on some Wizard Sports Network. When he got upstairs, she'd maybe smile at him briefly before turning off her light and trying to go to sleep.

In truth, she never did sleep. It sounded scary, but she'd lay awake and just listen to his existence. The way he whistled in the shower; soft enough so that he wouldn't 'wake' her up, but loud enough for her to make out a melody. And when he got out of the shower, he'd brush his teeth. Hermione could hear the beep on the timer that made him brush for two minutes. Then, she'd hear him spit and sigh before the door would open. Then, he'd get changed silently, but the ruffling of clothes still reached her eager ears. The entire time, she was turned towards her wall, her eyes wide open.

Fred turned the TV on, nodding barely when he heard the shower begin to run. This routine was making him sick; he missed talking to Hermione. Truly, he did enjoy her company. He tried to refocus on the game, but it was a recap on last night's match anyways. So, with a rejected breath, he clicked the TV off and went upstairs, not knowing what else to do.

He opened the door to their bedroom wearily and absent-mindedly. At first, he didn't hear it, or just thought it was his imagination, but a moment later, the sound came again. The softest of whimpers could be heard through the muffling of the door and the shower. Fred's eyebrows knitted together as he cautiously stepped over to the bathroom door. Hesitating for a moment, he finally reached his fist up and knocked quietly.

"Hermione?" He called softly, not wanting to scare her. The whimpers stopped immediately, replaced by sniffling.

"Yes Fred?" She called back in as much of a normal tone as she could manage. Fred winced slightly at the pain and exhaustion in her voice.

"Are you alight? Were you crying?" He asked, pushing himself closer to the door to hear her better. She responded, but he didn't hear it over the shower.

"Could you turn off the shower?" He called. A moment later, the water stopped. "Thanks, now, what did you say?" He continued. Another sniff sounded.

"I just said that I was fine." Hermione called back. Fred rolled his eyes.

"Well, obviously you weren't, otherwise you wouldn't be crying." He accused. The door opened swiftly and a red-eyed Hermione stood on her tip-toes to glare at him.

"I was not crying!" She snapped. Fred raised his eyebrows. He couldn't help but notice how close she was too him, especially when she pushed herself up higher. Her nose was a few inches from his, and her hands were mere centimeters from his own fingers. He could smell her minty breath on his face, cooling, yet giving him a blush that he shouldn't have. Hermione didn't seem to notice any of this however, but she still set herself down on her feet and walked past him, huffing mildly. Fred turned and looked at her oddly as she walked over to her bed and began to pull back the blankets. Clearly, she had never undressed for the shower.

"I'm not working late tomorrow, so I was wondering-" He began.

"I am. I've got the night shift at the department." Hermione interjected quickly. Fred's shoulders slumped and he paled slightly.

"Oh, I was just thinking we could go to dinner or something." He said quietly. Truthfully, he was kind of hurt by Hermione swift rejection. Hermione glanced up at him, a quizzical look on her face as though she hadn't been expecting that answer.

"Oh…well, I suppose I could cancel. Georgia, my boss, wouldn't mind anyway. Yeah, dinner sounds fine. Where are we going?" She asked crawling under the comforter and snuggling up to her pillow, looking at Fred with earnest eyes. Fred smiled and echoed her actions.

"I was just thinking the Leaky Cauldron or something casual. We don't need to make a fuss, right?" He asked, smiling fully now for the first time in a few weeks. Hermione returned it and nodded.

"Yeah. Looking forward to it. Let's say…six?" She asked before reaching up to her lamp switch, waiting for his answer. Fred ran through his schedule tomorrow through his head. After a moment, he nodded.

"Sounds good. G'night!" He said happily, clicking off his own lamp. And when darkness fell, he couldn't see the smile and the slight rose-color that spread through Hermione cheeks as she too clicked off her lamp.

"Goodnight Fred."

……….

Five thirty p.m. the next day arrived quicker than Hermione anticipated. She was sitting in the living room with a random book in her lap when she took a glance at the clock. Then she took a double-take at the time.

Scurrying upstairs, she whipped open her closet doors in a rush, her book long forgotten on the couch downstairs. Fred had said he was going to pick her up after work at six o-clock sharp. As in, if you're a moment late, I'm leaving without you.

Hermione literally ran through the shower, going so far as to hex her hair to smell nicer, clean easier, and dry faster. Then, with a flick of her wand, the curls were straightened and flowing down past her chest just below her breasts. Smiling in the mirror for a moment, she flew back into her room and to her closet.

……..

Fred pulled the car into the driveway and honked once, knowing Hermione would hear it. He leaned back in his chair and sighed, straightening his jacket for moment. He had put on quite the show at the shop as he tried to put on his jeans and white polo while trying his hardest to wash off some purple powder that had exploded on his face. Flipping down the mirror, he could still see a small speck of purple on the bridge of his nose…

"What are you doing?" Hemione's voice asked him, and with a small yell, he banged against the seat, earning a hearty laugh from her end. She was standing outside the door but hadn't gotten inside yet, though the door was wide open as she took in his appearance, smiling as she did so. Fred smiled at her straightened hair and took in the jean skirt and white tee-shirt. Perfect.

"You ready or not?" He asked, changing the subject as quickly as he could. Hermione nodded and happily bounced into her seat, buckled her seat belt and smiled at him. Fred turned back to the front and put the car in gear before Hermione did something very odd.

She leaned over and promptly kissed his cheek, blushing like crazy. But there was something even more mad going on…he was blushing and smiling just as insanely.


	8. The Date

Hermione took another sip of her firewhiskey and wiped her mouth daintily with her napkin. Fred also took a large gurgle of his drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Hermione smiled. It was ironic how different they were…and yet, here they sat as husband and wife. What had the world come to?

"Anyway, I remember a time in third year when Filch grew a mustache that was pure orange." Hermione continued. They had been discussing the most memorable times from their school-days, each exchanging a story, laughing their heads off, and then repeating it all over again. Fred raised his eyebrows at her and a smirk crossed his lips.

"Yeah. George and I snuck Hair Growth potion and food dye into his pumpkin juice the day before." He confessed, smiling widely with pride. Hermione exhaled with exaggeration.

"Seriously? Is there anything you can't do?" She asked incredulously, draining her firewhiskey and motioning for another. Fred laughed and got a refill too.

The game continued with simple stories to make the other smile, and they were always successful. Hermione even squirted firewhiskey out her nose from laughing too hard, earning an even more booming voice. This caused them to receive more then a few odd looks from the strangers around them.

It was around Hermione's fourth drink that Fred started to get a little concerned. Hermione smiled goofily in front of him, resting her head on her hand and tapping her fingers on the table, hiccupping every so often. Fred leaned over with his napkin to wipe some of the drool away from her mouth. Hermione coughed lazily and laughed.

"Hey sugar!" A man called from the bar, waving her over to him and a few friends. Hermione waved back happily and knocked over the rest of her mug. Fred sighed. Than, Hermione stood up and leaned on the chair for support as she began to stumble over towards the guys. Fred's eyes widened and he practically leapt over the table to her. Wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her against his chest, he stood next to her. The men all pouted and a chorus of 'awww's rose.

"Aw come on man, let her have some fun!" One of them cooed, licking his lips sloppily and winking at Hermione, who giggled and hid her face like a little girl. Fred glared at him.

"If you even dare touch her, I'll cast your sorry ass back to the twenties." He threatened coldly, looking from one shabby face to the next. A guy in the front put his hands up.

"Whoa dude, calm down. We didn't know she was with you." He said, smiling still.

"Yeah, you two don't look much like a couple." Another threw in.

"I'll bet they ain't even together! She probably jus' his sista'!" An extrememly wasted man came fumbling through the group, and though he was the most hopeless of all of them, Fred was most terrified at what he would do if he got his hands on Hermione.

"C'mon Fred! Lemme' have some fun! Whoops!" Hermione gushed happily as she stumbled slightly into Fred, knocking him backwards. Luckily, he pushed her back and pinned her against the nearest wall, taking a place in front of her so that his body was shielding her face. One of the taller men, the 'leader' of the group, stepped forward. He looked like the most sober, and the most intimidating. Fred stood tall, ignoring how Hermione seemed to be playing the piano on his back, humming softly and laughing every so often.

"Well, if she your gal, why don't ya prove it?" The leaders suggested, earning a dozen yells of support from his goons. Fred looked from one to the other.

"Isn't that kind of unnecessary?" He gulped, in spite of himself. The leader sneered and tried to side-step around Fred's form.

"Either you kiss her, or I will. And believe me, I like to kiss girlies like that." The leader said, glancing around Fred's shoulder at Hermione and winking. Fred grimaced, than slowly turned to Hermione.

Her brown eyes, usually dark-chocolate, were lighter possibly. Like a milky, creamy brown color. Her cheeks were incredibly pink, and she was gazing at him with sheer, pure, oblivious happiness.

"Oh God…" Fred muttered darkly to the ceiling before he held her neck with his hand and entwining the other in her wavy hair. She hiccupped once before his lips descended upon hers, capturing them in what had been planned as a very short kiss.

But, as drunk as she was, he couldn't pull himself away. He slowly removed his hand from her hair and placed it on her cheek, rubbing the soft flesh with his thumb. Her lips parted and he deepened the kiss. It was as if the men; the barstools; the creaky wooden floor had melted away into a blissful nothingness.

Hermione's mind, meanwhile, was become less fuzzy by the second. Fred's kiss was sobering, clearing her clouded brain. Slowly, she realized that Fred Weasley, her opposite, her friend, her husband…was snogging her in the middle of a bar.

And she reacted as any girl would if an attractive red-head man kissed her; she wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed happily. She breathed him in, the sweet-smelling scent that was a mixture of his cologne with the slight smell of alcohol. It was bliss.

"Alright you two! Alright! We get it!" The leader shouted, breaking them apart as he pulled Fred away. Hermione's eyes slowly opened to Fred's shocked face. He was rubbing his head with his hand which had been previously on her neck. Now, it was burning. Hermione took deep breaths to stabilize herself. She looked away, but Fred's face; his wide eyes and open mouth, stayed in her mind for the rest of the night.

……..

Sighing, she turned her head on her pillow again, sighing frustration. Fred shifted in his bed too. Even though their beds had been moved as far away as possible, she could still hear him…see him…_taste him._

_Stop it Hermione! _She yelled at herself mentally, squeezing her eyes closed and burrowing her head into her pillow_. You don't love him! You don't even like him that much! Even if he makes you smile! No, stop. That doesn't matter. Get over him. He's out o your league anyway._

Why was it so hard to get rid of his image in her brain? Had it been imprinted permanently into her skull? It would be hard enough now that they had made out. You just don't make out with a guy and expect everything to be okay afterwards.

She turned again and found herself looking into his eyes. She gasped and covered her mouth. Fred leaned on his haunches, smiling slightly.

"Hey." He muttered. Hermione uncovered her mouth and allowed herself to return the smile.

"Hi." She responded, sliding her elbow under her pillow and looking at him in earnest. Fred sighed and opened his mouth for a moment, than shut it again. Hermione gave him a quizzical look.

"What's up?" She asked him. He looked at her again, clearly.

_"Well Hermione. I don't really know how to explain myself after tonight. I mean, honestly, it was just supposed to be a simple kiss. Short and sweet. But then…when you responded…It's like I was taken away from everything else. Like it was just you and I, kissing in the air, and I know that sounds corny. But you have to understand; I entered this marriage with only friendship for you. But after tonight…I don't think that's possible for me anymore. Hermione, I think I'm falling in love with you."_

Sighing to himself, he looked down at the floor for a moment. He could never actually say that to her. So, with as much as a smile as capable, he looked back into her concerned, chocolate eyes.

"Nothing. Never mind."


	9. The Love Test Potion

Fred woke the next morning with a simple yawn and stretch. A glorious week of silence and awkward blushing had passed since Hermione and his snog-session in the bar. Still, every time his eyes found hers, it was as if her lips were pressing against his so wondrously all over again.

It was when he was standing in the kitchen when it happened. Hermione came tumbling down the stairs, disoriented and dizzy from waking up too fast. Fred smirked sadly as she stumbled into a barstool and muttered the lamest greeting ever heard. Fred re-checked his pocket for the vial; yup, still there. Smiling, he crossed over to the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked casually as he twisted off the cap. Hermione grunted and lay her head down so that her cheek was resting on the cool table-top.

"Not-so-well." She breathed out in one gasp. Fred held back a laugh. If it had been any other morning, this wouldn't have been necessary. But he had business to take care of.

Over two weeks had passed since George had given Fred the Love Test Potion. Fred knew now was the time to use it. After that kiss…well, he couldn't be sure. Hermione groaned again as he poured the juice into her mug, whistling softly and trying to keep the atmosphere light.

Then, with the slightest dip of his hand, he pulled out the bottle of teal liquid, eyeing it. This was it; he slowly uncorked the top quietly and poured the contents into her mug. It dissolved easily and with the smallest of twinkles. Hermione didn't even peek up as he swirled the liquids together, making sure everything was mixed in. Then, with a sigh of relief, he put the mug in front of her.

"Here you go." He said happily as he washed his hands and walked out of the kitchen, returning to his whistling.

"Where you going?" Hermione asked sleepily, holding her mug with one hand and peeking at him from under heavy lids. Fred smiled again.

"Just upstairs. I'll be back in a little bit. We'll watch a move or something." He lied easily. Before walking up the rest of the stairs, he nodded for her to drink.

When he closed the door, he checked the clock. Hermione would drink the "orange juice" in about two gulps as usual. After that, the Love Test would cause her to fall asleep within a minute. Then, it works its way in her bloodstream (with no harm done to her except a vivid dream about the person who gave it to her) and is transferred to the heart. This takes about five minutes for the potion to accomplish. After that, she wakes up, alert and awake. That's when Fred would make his move. What the Love Potion did was to force the drinker to act upon any sort of romantic feelings towards whoever gave them the drink.

Fred rubbed his hands together nervously. It would be quite the experience for both of them. He smiled with a sigh and grabbed a comic book from his shelf before settling down to read until Hermione woke up.

……….

Hermione groaned slightly as she lifted her head from the counter. She rubbed her eyes and looked around; the kitchen? Had she fallen asleep during breakfast? Sighing, she yawned and stretched her arms above her head, wondering where Fred was…

_Fred._ The name suddenly came crashing into her mind, causing her knees to buckle as she stood from the stool. She gasped and clutched the chair for support, holding her heart. It had begun to beat wildly and randomly, making her chest hurt. Hermione suddenly longed for him to hold her, to kiss her…and a whole mess of other things. She stood, carefully, making sure she wouldn't lose her balance again.

"Fred?" She shouted desperately. Where was he? She needed him…now.

"Yeah?" He responded, and she turned to see him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed and with a smirk. He looked bloody gorgeous, she couldn't take her eyes away from him. She suddenly felt very warm in her black tank-top and red plaid pajama pants. 

Meanwhile, Fred's mind was buzzing. Hermione looked incredibly frazzled, with her hair pulled back into a messy bun and her hands wringing in front of her. He knew he had only half an hour to act on the potion, since that was how long the drinker had to prove their heart's emotions.

"Is something wrong?" He asked Hermione, an almost teasing look of concern in his eyes. Hermione gulped, feeling the sweat beginning to gather on her forehead beneath her hair.

"I…you…I feel…we…" She choked. Why was she unable to work out an intelligent noise in front of him? All she could focus on was those lips, the freckles on his nose…

Within two steps she was in front of him, on her tiptoes, pulling him by the tee-shirt down towards her.

Fred slowed her to pull him to her, oddly entertained. If only there was a way to film this and then show Hermione later. Instant blackmail much?

"Were you going to say something, Hermione?" He teased in a whisper. Hermione remained mere centimeters from him, licking her lips and taking short breaths. Fred raised his eyebrows. She was somehow battling the potion. It looked like he was going to have to take the initiative.

"Allow me." He whispered again. He pulled her fingers from his shirt and guided them around his neck, never taking his eyes from her chocolate, scared ones. Then, he smoothly snaked his arms around her waist.

"Your turn." He murmured, brushing his nose against her own. She shuddered and took another gasping breath. Then, pushing herself up onto her toes, she did it.

She kissed him, pulling him to her, getting him as close as possible. Fred's eyes remained open for a moment, even though hers were squeezed shut. 

Then, he responded. He parted her lips and dipped her back into an arch, holding her back all the while. The kiss was instantly deepened as he scooped her up from her bent position. He cradled her in his arms, like a little child. 

The two stumbled over to the couch before he gently laid her down then placed himself over her, his arms on either side of her shoulders. He couldn't stop kissing her when she acted so passionate with him, running her hands up and down his back, murmuring his name between kisses.

_Stop it Fred! Stop now before you get carried away!_

_No way! This is…bliss. _

_You idiot, you're going to ruin everything!_

_Well then, allow me to rip it up and burn it._

Shoving aside the pesky voices, he slid his arms again underneath her back and pulled her into his lap. She sat on his crossed legs, their lips never parting as they melted together.

Hermione didn't know what to do, think or hear. A fuzzy ringing was sounding in her ears as Fred dipped her back again, supporting her with those lovely, muscular arms of his. She entwined her fingers in his fiery hair, loving the way the silky strands flowed past them. It was perfect…perfect beyond anything else she had ever felt in the world. She and Fred…They just fit together like puzzle pieces. The kind that usually lay forgotten by the rest of the world underneath the sofa until brought together by fate.

And then, everything vanished. Hermione's eyes popped open, only to see Fred's eyes were closed as they continued to snog. Hermione released his hair in an instant and threw herself off the couch. She landed on the ground with a thud before she went into hysterics.

"What the hell? What's going on Fred? How did we…end up…you know!" She screeched, staring at him incredulously. Fred was staring back, shocked beyond words.


	10. Fighting the Feeling

It was hard not to notice the noise coming from the small house. A muffled crash, some yelling, another crash, and perhaps an odd word or too that muggles had never heard before. A moment later, another shatter.

Inside laid many broken dishes on the kitchen floor. There were few dents and burns in the walls, perhaps from a rogue hex that had barely missed the head of a certain red-head. Pictures were either askew or on the ground. Some pillows were leaking their stuffing. It looked like chaos had swept inside the house like a tornado, leaving the rest in ruins.

Through the disgruntled hallways, back into the living room, stood a couple. The girl had bushy brown hair that had hastily been pulled back into a ponytail with a black tank-top and red plaid pajama pants on. She currently was pointing a wand and a very dark glare at the other person, who had his hands up in a sign of peace.

_Earlier that Day:_

"What the hell? What's going on Fred? How did we…end up…you know!" She screeched, staring at him incredulously. Fred was staring back, shocked beyond words. Hermione began straightening her shirt as though suddenly embarrassed. She switched to running her hands through her ponytail and breathing heavily. Fred pushed himself up from the couch, his eyes still wide as he stumbled towards her.

"Hermione…" He murmured, extending his arms to her. Hermione gave a little yelp and shoved herself away from him, hugging her arms to her chest, staring at him.

"What the hell did you do to me you git? What was it! Some sort of Instant Obsession spell while I was sleeping? Or did you spike my orange juice! YOU SPIKED MY ORANGE JUICE, DIDN'T YOU!" Hermione cried hysterically, whipping her wand out from a pocket in her pajamas and pointing it at him menacingly. Instinctively, Fred began to back up, holding one hand up and the other snaking to his own pocket and pulling out his wand. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Okay Hermione…just calm down…and I'll explain everything…alright?" Fred asked nervously, trying hard not to tremble. There was a roaring fire in Hermione's eyes that sent chills down his back. It became clear to him that you should never try to trick Hermione Granger again.

"Okay…good. So here's the story; George gave me a Love Test Potion…no, put your wand down and listen to me…okay, so George gave me a Love Test Potion because after that kiss at the bar…I just wasn't sure how you felt about me. I'm too much of an idiot to ask you myself, so I slipped the potion into your orange juice this morning." Fred said quietly, his wand at his side and his hand resting on the wall, keeping his eyes on Hermione's at all times to anticipate any sort of attack. But she kept still, yet the glare stayed just as violently in her eyes.

"You gave me a Love Test Potion!" She asked slowly, her voice getting louder with each syllable. "That's the fourth time you've taken advantage of me Fred!" She bellowed, taking a step towards him. This time however, Fred didn't back off.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. When else have I taken advantage of you?" He asked, somewhat angrily. Hermione scoffed.

"Well, first you kiss me after our interrogations, and then you beat me with an umbrella in an insane attempt to save yourself from a so-called burglar. Next, you kiss me again after letting me get drunk just to prove that you had a girl who would waste her time with you. And now you give me a bloody Love Test!" Hermione screeched again, advancing another step. Fred's defiance flared and he too took a step towards her.

"What the hell! The first kiss was to shut up some damn interrogators that were really starting to annoy us both. Secondly, the whole umbrella thing was mistake. It was self-defense anyways, so you can't really blame me! And besides, you seemed pretty content when I laid you down in your bed after carrying you all the way up the stairs! You think I had fun doing that! Let me tell you, you are NOT the lightest person in the world!" He fought back, shouting now too. Hermione gasped and withdrew a little.

"How DARE you!" She shouted in return. Fred gave a humorless laugh.

"Oh yeah, and you're the one who got drunk Miss I-Can't-Hold-My-Alcohol! It's not my fault that you're a lame drinker!"

"Oh yes Fred, I'm sure someone with as much experience at irresponsible drinking, such as you, would understand!" Hermione said sarcastically. Fred shook his head, taking another step towards her and holding up his wand.

"And by the way Hermione, you're not that great of a kisser when you're drunk. Actually, you're not a good kisser at all!" Fred yelped as a red blast of light erupted from the brunette's wand, narrowly missing his arm. Hermione stood seething in front of him. He could almost see the flames coming out of her ears.

"I…can't…believe you!" Hermione screamed. "Oh wait, yes I can! Oh, look at me, I'm Fred Weasley! I like to act stupid and idiotic so that girls will laugh at me! Ooh, whoopdie-doo, look at me! I'm drowning in my own stupidity!" Hermione's sarcasm actually did kind of wound Fred, but only for a moment. In the next instant, he shot a jet of blue light at Hermione's form. She ducked, and it crashed into the pile of unwashed dishes behind her. Hermione gave him a low laugh.

"Oh well done Fred! Now you won't have to do the dishes! Oh wait, you never DO!" At the end of her sentence, she too let out a blast of multi-colored light. It collided with Fred's chest, sending him flying into the bookcase. He tumbled into the shelves, which of course caused their contents to crash down on him without mercy. Growling, he shoved himself up and stalked back towards the smirking brunette.

"Hermione, we both know you're the one who likes to lie in the middle of books all the time, not me!" He said with a voice that dripped with a bitter, honey-like sound. Hermione raised an eyebrow. A moment later, Fred pointed his wand at the books that lay in a puddle on the floor.

"Accios!" He cried, and with a fling of his wand, ever single book was flying through the air at Hermione. Her eyes widened but she recovered all too quickly for him.

"Protego!" She responded, and the book bounced away from her and fell with multiple thuds back to the ground. "You always did have bad aim Fred!" She said acidly. Fred narrowed his eyes at her.

"You've got some dust on your shoulder Hermione, let me wash it off for you! AGUAMENTI!"

"Whoops Fred, you fell down. Allow me to help you up! WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"

The spells continued to fly through the house, crashing into lamps and walls but never their intended target. It seemed as if the spells always missed by a mere centimeter…almost looking like the two wizards were purposefully missing the other.

And now, here they stood, Hermione at one side of the ruined living room, Fred at the other. Hermione had her wand clenched in her hand, while Fred's lay a couple feet away from a perfectly performed Expelliarmus curse from Hermione.

"I still can't believe you!" Hermione choked, holding back tears. She didn't know why she was crying however; was it because of that nasty bruise that was forming on her shoulder? Ye, she'd go with that.

"How can you even say that Hermione! I apologize for wanting to be sure that you had feelings for me!" Fred replied, glaring at her. Hermione shook her head.

"Why would it even matter?" She asked quietly, the hurt overflowing in her eyes. Fred stared back; how do you answer that? Why did he care? Why? In a pure, honest truth, did he really like Hermione that way?

No, he didn't want to believe it. Hermione and him…they were just so different. She was uptight and strict; he was goofy and carefree. She was an A student while he had been happy for a C. She was beautiful and kind…and he was…he just _wasn't_.

Fred almost smiled sadly at the conclusion. His lips turned up at the end a little, and he lowered his hands. He stared at the ground; his face was an unreadable emotion. Hermione breathed heavily and sniffed back another tear. However, she did hiccup. Fred looked up at her, took one step so that he was in front of her. He then slowly ran his rough fingers over her smooth, pale cheeks, brushing away the tear-trails.

"Too soft…" He muttered, giving his fingers a quizzical look. Then, with a brief glance at the house, he apparated away and Hermione fell to the floor, sobbing.

**AN: THIS IS NOT THE END! I swear, I'm already working on the next chapter. Oddly enough, this one if by far my favorite. So, due to popular demand and a few rather funny reviews calling me evil, (cough cough, you know who you are, cough cough) I'm just kidding, I love you al beyond any words could describe. So thank-you to all who read and reviewed, I owe you! May the force be with you!**


	11. When We're Away pt1

Waking up had gotten harder for Fred ever since he left…her. Sleeping was an issue too. For the past two weeks, he had only gotten a cumulative sixteen hours of Z's, and that was just plain unhealthy for a nineteen year old.

Groaning as the sunlight beamed into his eyes, he rolled over so his back was to the window. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperate for sleep, but it happened again; Hermione's face flew to his mind, working her way into his brain. He couldn't help but smile at the familiarity of those soft, rosy cheeks…the way her dimples showed when she smiled…

All too soon, the pink of her cheeks shred away, leaving tear-trails and sobs behind them in the dusty memory. Fred winced as her words cut through his skull; "why do you even care?"

He wasn't supposed to care. The truth was, he and Hermione were going to divorce after some sense was knocked back into the ministry (like that would ever happen) but they were willing to be patient. This entire marriage was a favor, not a privilege, and he had gone too far by allowing himself to actually become involved. He was as stubborn as he was stupid right now, so to take some of the guilt away, he stood.

"Go away 'Mione." He mumbled under his breath, and he forced her face from his eyes. He stretched and yawned so that George would hear him; hopefully making George think Fred had actually fallen asleep.

After apparating from his and Hermione's house, Fred had gone straight to his brother's flat above the joke shop. He had fallen with a rather loud and painful thud in the middle of George's living room. It had been quite awkward, however, since George and Katie Bell were snogging in extreme mode when he arrived; each moaning and breathing heavily until they broke apart. What followed next were some stuttered apologies from parties, an awkward good-bye from Katie, and a brotherly hug from one red-head who had his life sorted out neatly while the other was as all-over as the freckles on his skin. Ever since, Fred had been camping at George's.

He felt bad about leaving Hermione, so he would send George over to the house to check up on her and tell her how everyone was doing. When George would get back, he'd give his brother a 'what-the-hell-are-you-doing?' sort of look before launching into a detailed status-check on Hermione. Today was one of those days. George had left at around eight last night and returned home just before Fred went to sleep. Although Fred was persistent, George refused to update him about Hermione until Fred got some sleep.

As he descended the stairs, he could hear George clanking around in the storage room, probably messing up the order a bit more so that he could understand it better.

'Morning.' Fred mumbled dramatically, hoping to act as tired as possible. George gave him a disbelieving look but sat down at the table anyways, drumming his fingers. Fred leaned against the counter as silence settled over the kitchen. Fred was just eager to hear how Hermione was doing, but he felt foolish to bring it up.

"You can ask." George said, smiling as if he had read his twin's mind. Fred gave a throaty laugh and sighed, looking at the floor. When he looked back, George noticed the sincerity in his eyes.

"How is she?" He asked in a tight voice, a voice that was holding back a wave of emotion. George rubbed his hands together and leaned forward.

"She's better then last time. She's moving around now, instead of just laying on the couch all day. She smiled three times this time, which is two more than when I last visited. Fred, she still isn't eating. It's like she's numb. Like, she accidentally cut her finger on the knife as she cut up some chicken for me, and she just stared at it for a moment before going back to my dinner." George said in a depressing tone. Fred sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. She wasn't supposed to be this upset.

"Damn." He muttered, closing his eyes and rubbing his face. George stood.

"You idiot, just go back to her! She obviously needs you just as much you need her!" George said a bit loudly. Fred glared at him.

"I can't just go back there!" He said, swinging his arms out wide and staring at George, who glared back.

"You git! You're just gonna let her suffer because of your stupid insecurities?! Wow, yeah you're a great husband!" George sneered, sitting back down. Fred shook his head.

"We weren't even supposed to get married!" He snapped. "If we never had gotten bloody married, none of this would've happened. I never would have beaten her with an umbrella; I never would have kissed her like, four times. She never would've gotten drunk, she never would've had to deal with a Love Test Potion, and we'd never have had that bloody fight!" He pounded a fist on the table angrily, adrenaline rushing into his eyes as he coughed and spluttered on his words. George remained silent, allowing his twin to crash and burn right in his face. Slowly, he stood and walked over to Fred, placing a hand on his back.

"You don't regret it though." He stated. He felt Fred sigh, calming down in a matter of seconds before he stood fully and turned to face his brother. He looked so tired and empty…not at all like old Fred.

"No…I don't regret anything."

Hermione stared at the fly that was perched on the lamp next to the sofa. It had decided it liked it atop the lamp-shade and hadn't moved since, which meant Hermione had found her "entertainment" for the day. Her hands were at her sides as she lay on the couch, blinking and breathing being the only things she had committed herself to doing.

The house was still just as screwed up as it had been two weeks ago. The walls were still burnt and dented, and the dishes had never been swept up. She had barely moved except when she had to put on some sort of act to convince George that she was surviving…barely.

What was the last thing she had eaten? Was it that mini candy-bar she had found on the table yesterday? Her stomach didn't growl anymore…she was too delicate and vulnerable to focus on hunger. Right now, she had to focus on never letting herself fall into…well fall in general. She wouldn't allow herself to become like this ever again. Maybe…just maybe…in a few months, she'd go to a buffet.

The phone rang for the first time in days. Hermione closed her eyes, losing sight of the fly as the ringing resounded in her ears. It was probably just George checking up on her again. God, that man had to leave her alone sometime, right?

A few more rings and then the answering machine came on; "Hey you've reached the Magical Tax Rebellion Organization! Just kissing, this is Fred and Hermione Weasley. We obviously can't get to the phone, so leave a message while we do something more fun then this. 'K, cool." Then a beep sounded, and Hermione waited.

"Hey…Hermione. It's…um well it's me. Fred. Weasley, in case you forgot your own hus-…well anyway, I'm just…just uh, checking up on you. I figured I should make some sort of uh…um, communication…to prove to you that I didn't go to far. Yeah, so…uh just call me again at George's number…if you want. But, I think we need to talk…So, yeah. Bye…." Hermione reopened her eyes, thinking the message was over. Slowly, she positioned herself on the side of the sofa to go and delete his voice form her answering machine, but there was breath on the line, and she stopped. So Fred hadn't hung up.

"Well, like I said…give me a call…and I'll um…I'll talk to you later…yeah. Hermione? I…" There was another large intake of air, and Hermione waited, her hands clenching into fists.

"I love you. Call me soon, 'k?" With a final sigh, Fred then hung up.


	12. When We're Away pt2

Fred was pacing again, walking to-and-fro through George's living room, the phone lying on the table some three feet away. Nervously, his finger were glued to his mouth as he bit his fingernails, glancing at the clock, then the phone, then the floor every to seconds about. 

Yesterday had been a near disaster. No, it had been a disaster. Fred had gone and told Hermione that he loved her! And on an answering machine no less! What kind of fool would call their wife and tell them that they love them on a bloody answering machine?! _Oh right_. A cruel voice snipped inside his head. _You do_.

Groaning for the fourth time in the last two minutes, Fred ran his hand through his hair, rubbing the almost-scarlet strands. What if Hermione didn't call? She was supposed to call though! You can't _not_ call someone after _they_ call _you_ and say they love you!

But then again, 'I love you' on an answering machine isn't too romantic. Sighing, Fred returned his hand to his mouth and eagerly began chomping on his fingernails again.

Then, it happened.

The first loud RING hadn't even ended before Fed had leaped over to the glorious piece of technology and picked it up, panting with excitement.

"Hello?" He said, and waited for the other line to respond.

"Oh…hey Katie. No, George isn't here right now. Yeah, I'll tell him you called." He said, the ecstatic wave of newfound excitement pulsing out of him with every word he spoke. He waited for Katie to stop talking.

"Whoa, whoa whoa-Hermione called you?" He asked incredulously.

"What did she say?" He asked, sounding more and more like an eager little boy. Quickly, he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, put the phone on speaker and waited.

"Oh you know, she just told me hello and that she thought we should grab some lunch or something sometime. She sounded quite odd though, kind of dainty almost. Anyway, she didn't sound much like herself so I asked her if she had heard from you. She said, 'yeah, but I'm not sure if I can talk to him right now'. I'm sorry Fred, I thought you were really over her." Katie said sadly. Fred scoffed a little as he finished taking notes.

"Yeah, well…" He trailed off. Katie would know what he meant.

"There's something else." Katie said again, her tone dipping into a more serious nature. Fred listened more closely.

"Well…I don't want to be the one to tell you this, Fred. But she…well Hermione told me that she had stopped by the ministry and she picked something up from there." Katie sounded unsure of whether she could continue. If it would've worked, Fred wanted to strangle the words out of her and the phone.

"What? What did she pick up?" He pushed. There was a short intake of breath on Katie's end, and then she answered. The phone fell to the floor before Fred had even apparated.

Hermione sat at home, if you could call an empty house that, cutting up some carrots. She didn't know what she was going to sue them for though…maybe she'd make some soup and have it ready for another one of George's surprise visits. That thought made her roll her eyes.

Ever since Fred had left, Hermione had become a crabby, snappy person. She was often lonely and used sarcasm in everything she thought of. Though she'd never admit it, she missed everyone's company. Harry, Ron and Tonks had all tried calling her, but she had disabled the phone line after Fred's last call. Lupin and Luna had even tried to visit her, but she pretended that she hadn't been home. Still, Luna left her a gift-basket with cookies, a couple editions of the Quibbler, and a very odd-looking pasta that had scared Hermione out of her wits until it had touched her mouth. Then, ignoring her solitude for a moment, she wrote to Luna asking her to bring more.

Sighing, she put the knife down to grab some beans out of the refrigerator.

It was then that she heard a small 'pop' come from the living room. Hermione's brow furrowed at the thought of someone apparating into her house. After all, she had been thorough in her decoration of anti-trespasser spells that protected the house against Unwanted Visitors. To be able to get inside, you'd have to be wanted inside. That's why all her friends used to call before apparating in. Hermione began walking around the hallway that led to the living room, where a few coughs could be heard.

She tip-toed, abandoning the beans on the counter as she walked towards the noise. Stopping a mere centimeter from the living room, she took a deep breath and peeked around the corner.

There stood Fred. He was brushing off his jeans and his white tee-shirt, muttering something about how stupid he was for landing in the fireplace. Hermione blinked several times, trying to make this mental hallucination disappear. Not only did that fail fantastically, but even better, Fred turned around and called her name.

She couldn't help but yelp a little when she heard his voice. That sweet, sweet voice that had sung her to sleep on rough nights, and had laughed at her numerous times when she tripped over something in the shop. And that voice that had so cruelly left her to rot in her own house. 

Still, Fred heard the small exclamation, and he instinctively turned towards her hiding spot. Marching over, his hands balled into fists. He looked angry.

"Hermione! Come out now!" He bellowed, waiting for her to hear. Hermione decided she might as well talk to the hallucination, seeing as how he, or rather it, was the only thing to talk to. Plus, it was like an exact copy of Fred.

"Fred?" She said gently, and Fred's eyes softened. He reached out, as if to touch her, but withdrew his hand and held it out in front of him, business like.

"Hey Herms. I'm back!" He said with little enthusiasm. Hermione stepped forward and shook his hand gingerly, like his touch had burned her. His hands felt the same.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him, releasing his hand almost immediately. Fred's eyes hardened again and he too dropped his hand.

"I came here to ask you this; why?" He stated, folding his arms across his chest. Hermione threw him a quizzical glance.

"What?" She asked innocently. Fred wanted to turn around and not look at those pleading chocolate eyes. He hadn't missed the slight lack of color in them.

"You know what I mean. Katie told me about what you got at the ministry." Fred said accusingly. At this, Hermione dropped her gaze and leaned against the wall.

"Oh." Was all she said, and it was with a longing look at the floor to swallow her up.

"Yes, 'oh'! Hermione how could you?!" Fred asked, stepping closer to her so that she'd have to look into his eyes. His blue, no, his periwinkle eyes.

"I'm sorry, Fred…but I thought-I thought that's what you wanted." She said. Fred's eyes flashed.

"What I wanted, how could you know what I wanted if you never bothered to call me back after that message?! I told you I loved you, Hermione! How could you go get divorce papers after you heard that?!" He asked, bewildered. Hermione wouldn't look at him still. She was taking huge breaths as if to calm him and herself down. It wasn't working apparently, because when she looked back into his eyes, she was crying softly.

"I…I d-didn't think y-you meant it." She cried. Fred shook his head fiercely, staring at how unbelievable this girl was.

"How could you even think that Hermione?" He asked. "Look, I know this had been an arranged marriage, but that doesn't make it all the less real! I loved you. I still love you. I want every single part of you to love me too, but since obviously that can't happen-"

"Why not?" Hermione interjected, a newfound ire glinting in her eyes. Fred gaped at her but swallowed his shock.

"You're the one who wanted to get a divorce if you went and got the bloody papers." He said, putting his arm against the wall. Hermione shook her head.

"I got those papers because I thought that's what you wanted." She said softly. Fred was shaking, trying to stay in control. This is what Hermione wanted anyways; for him and her to finally be able to say good bye to each other. It didn't matter what she said. It was her who got the divorce papers, not him. She hadn't even called him at all! At least he tried to make contact.

"This was what you wanted." Hermione whispered. It was then that Fred lost it.

"Damnit Hermione! How many times do I have to tell you?! I. Love. You! Will you never understand?!" He backed her into the wall, his arms cornering her. He put his hand on either side of her shoulders. Hermione whimpered and slid down a little.

"I love you Hermione! I've loved you since you fell asleep in my arms that night. They way you…we. The way we fit together. I love you. I want you there, always…with me. When I wake up, when I lie down, when I fall, when I get in trouble with my mum…I want you to be by my side, holding my hand. Because that's all I need from you Hermione. You. Just you." He finished, breathless. Never taking away his arms, he stared her down as she slid down the wall, her eyes never leaving his as she hit the ground and began to cry.


	13. The Begining of an End

It was a quieter dinner at the Weasley's. Fred sat at one end of the table, twirling his fork skillfully around his fingers, trying to decide what carrot to eat next. Hermione, who sat at the other end, watch him with a raised eyebrow. Fred really was one of the most random guys she'd ever known.

"You know they all taste the same, right?" She asked, half-mockingly, eyeing the orange veggies in front of him. Fred scoffed.

"Psh, no way! It's obvious that this one-" He speared a carrot with the fork. "-Is better tasting then the rest!" He then threw it into his mouth, took a bite, then spit it back out. "Gah, never mind, it was too juicy."

Hermione laughed. At least she satisfied Fred with some of her meals…

"_Excuse me?" She asked quite taken aback. Helga raised her head eagerly._

_"During intercourse. Is it satisfying for both parties?" She asked. Hermione knew this was a serious question, and yet Helga was nearly overflowing with giddiness that she had finally caught Hermione off guard._

"Fred, I satisfy you, right?" Hermione asked suddenly. Fred looked up at her, half a carrot poking out of his mouth. He spit it out and took a sip of his butter-beer.

"What?" He asked. Hermione sighed with frustration.

"I asked if I was satisfying to you." She snapped quietly. Fred gave her a quizzical look.

"Uh, well you are really fun and nice…and I like you a lot. Obviously, since we've made out like five times." Hermione turned bright pink at his blunt statement. "But yeah, I mean I love you so how could you be not satisfying?"

"Well, it's about a question my interrogator asked me. Yeah, I know, this was like, almost four months ago or whatever, but I was just reminded of it. She asked me if I…well if I um, satisfied you…in…b-bed." Hermione looked down into her lap. Terrific, there goes that dream-marriage plan. She could hear the sharp intake of breath from Fred and the gulp.

"Uh…my interrogator asked me the same thing." He confessed. Hermione looked up, met his gaze, and looked back down.

"A-and, what exactly did you…s-say?" She choked out, the happy feeling around them vanishing into a wave of awkwardness. Of course, she already knew his answer.

"Well…you know, I said no. Because we've never…n-never done anything…like that. Besides the snogging…b-but that was only on the couch." He said. It sounded like a question.

"Oh. I said no too." Hermione said, and was surprised as Fred slowly smiled widely.

"Well that's good." He said plainly, and stabbed another carrot with his fork and popped it into his mouth. "Hermione, there will be plenty of time for that when we find that we're ready. Right now, you just keep being the best wife ever known to wizard kind and I'll just keep being the most handsome guy ever known to women. Sound good?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow at the brunette. Hermione took a breath. Fred was right; they had all the time in the world to them.

So, with a new confidence and ambition set into her heart, Hermione stood from her chair. She placed her fork and knife neatly down on her plate and took another deep breath. Then, with wavering realization of what she was actually doing, Hermione was walking towards Fred. He had stopped eating and was watching her every move with confusion. Hermione took slow, deliberate steps toward him until she was finally at his side.

Then she smirked, and did something very un-Hermione like. She swiped the plate in front of Fred away, allowing it to fall from the table with a loud crash and splinter into who knows how many pieces. Fred was even more confused now. Neat and tiday, clean-freak Hermione had deliberately broke a dinner plate? He could imagine hell freezing over and pigs flying as she bent towards him.

Hermione gave him the largest, most beautiful smile he'd ever seen. Fred opened his mouth to question her motives, but he couldn't speak because two seconds later, Hermione had brought her lips to his.

**AN: FINALLLLYYY!! Gahh it's over, I'm sorry but that was so hard to finish. Takes a deep breath and yeah, I know the ending is horribly short, but what else was I supposed to do? I mean, last chapter was supposed to be the end so…**

**Anyway, I think I'm going on a Harry Potter Hiatus for awhile. I'll still be writing, but maybe for some other topics and categories. HOWEVER, before you fill up my message box with death threats and rotten fruit cake, I promise that you can probably see a harry potter fanfic coming up regardless of the hiatus. Itr just probably wont be about Fred and Hermione…who knows, maybe I'll take requests wink wink nudge nude…that means request something please and I'll choose my fave ship!**

**Until then, adios mon amis! (yeah, I just combined French and Spanish, got a problem?**

**-iMe**


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